


Good Girls Deserve Treats

by undertheteacup



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Femslash, does this still count as chaotic neutral or...?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:29:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undertheteacup/pseuds/undertheteacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ienna was getting so bored with good deeds; but the irony of running around and saving everyone only to top it all off by trading Connor Guerrin's soul for an otherworldly fuck was oh, so worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Girls Deserve Treats

When the demon leans in Ienna is surprised by the overpowering scent of her horns. They smell exactly as they look, a purple powdery musk. Then the demon wraps her hands around Ienna’s waist and the sharp talons digging into her flesh send a thrill of fear down into her gut.

She kneels before the demon and runs the tip of her tongue over that taut belly, feeling rough scaly skin searing hot against her face. She licks at the underside of a plump, firm breast, up to the perfectly centered nipple so clearly created to tempt human minds rather than reproduce the human body with any accuracy. She takes some satisfaction in tugging on the dark purple, unrealistic little nub with her teeth and giving it a sharp nip.

“Is there some truth to this form you have taken? Or is it all just a product of my own mind, whatever I want you to be?” Ienna asks, amid caresses.

“I cannot read the minds of those whom I do not possess. But I am thousands, millions of years old, human. I do not need to wear your body as my skin to read what is written plainly on your face and in your bearing,” says the demon, undulating against her. Ienna thinks she might feel tentacles teasing and tugging at her legs, the hem of her robe.

“Is that so? And here I thought my tall forehead, large and clear brown eyes, and pale unblemished skin gave me the mark of innocence,” Ienna jokes.

“Maybe among humans,” the demon purrs. “Tell me, do you not delight in the thought of your companions’ outrage at your immoral acts? If they knew how you traded the soul of young, spoiled little Connor Guerrin, and for what. Not even knowledge or skill! The most transitory, ephemeral thing of all, of no benefit to anyone else. The magnitude of your own wickedness makes touching me all the sweeter.”

“You’re right,” says Ienna, and kisses the demon’s mouth. It’s everything she could have imagined and more, wet and urgent, silky and sharp-toothed all at once. And underneath all that, almost beyond perception, there is the cloying stench of rotting flesh. Somehow it both turns her stomach and spurs her on.

What would Leliana think (what would Wynne think!) if they saw her now? Ienna giggles with her mouth full of burning, supple flesh, the smell and taste and touch of Desire assailing her senses. She gets to leave the Fade and walk around, for years, carrying this hot little secret. A secret hiding so deep in Connor’s mind and soul not even he could see it, hiding in the Fade where no one could possibly know of it but her. How delightful! After all, she saved almost that whole pathetic, whiny, annoying town, and Isolde’s life besides. It was already getting to be too much. Who can blame her for taking a little pleasure, a little payment in exchange? So small, hardly anyone will even notice.


End file.
